Silence Speaks

Ready or not here we go...

How does one suddenly transition from sixteen years of formal education to getting used to 8-5pm jobs?

Time and tide waits for no man. This strange ennui seems weirdly appropriate at this time.

When I was doing my internship, I was consciously aware the fact that I'll only be doing this gig for three months. And good and bad, I'll be heading back to school, where there is a predictable pattern to fall into and adhere to. Slack mug procrastinate and it goes on. It's a bit scary to think I'll have literally nothing to fall back on in another ten academic weeks or so. I'll be firmly thrust into a world I don't feel at all prepared nor ready for. The metaphorical hungry lions awaiting their prey. It's nothing I can study for, okay at this moment I feel a certain amount of guilt in the way I've indulged myself in the past holidays. But split milk and all, time to look forward and move on.

I knew as we all do, that the real world awaits. That's the whole reason why people pursue further education right? I mean part of the reason I chose the JC route was to prolong answering the what-do-I-want-to-do-when-I-grow-up question. Another reason was the lack of need to expound on the daily wardrobe choices but that's neither here nor there since I've long discovered  I'm a closet shopaholic. I remember the hopes and dreams that slowly diminished throughout the years because reality intruded. How glamorous the life of a lawyer, prosecutor (for Justice!), doctor, what the TV doesn't show is the amount of work one needs to slog through to get there.

The three months of internship meant to expose undergraduates to working world merely provided a brief glimpse into it. And the same routine that I went through on a daily basis (due to a lack of quick adaptability) was a bit depressing. Every day was bed, work and home. Frankly I admit that I've never been much of a morning person so obviously that played a factor in the sometimes dreading work mornings. Except for the occasional dinner out with friends, I barely had any life at all. How in the world did I get suckered into buying the afterwork drinks at classly refurnished pubs, brushing shoulders with fellow white collared professionals?

This transition into adulthood is a rather pesky and bothersome stage. But life is what one makes it. A rose is a rose is a rose.

Labels: me

posted by wantington-ny @ 10:06 AM